Bell for Adano, A - John Hersey [12]
It was a pleasure, certainly it was a pleasure, to have so many come to the Church of Sant’ Angelo.
But now Father Pensovecchio had a thought which made him very uneasy. What if the Mister Major should not come? Think of the shame. Think of how the other priests would laugh. Think how this vanity, this large crowd, would complain. Think of how his own faithful would flock on later Sundays to the other churches. Think of preaching to empty pews.
It was already five minutes past seven. The senior acolyte had already whispered in his ear that it was time to begin the mass. And the Mister Major had not come.
The Mister Major, at that moment, was sitting in his office having a breakfast of fruit and discussing with Borth and with the usher Zito, who never went to church, the matter of the bell. Major Joppolo sat with his feet on the huge desk eating fruit, Borth sat on the end of the desk also eating, and the little Zito stood at attention in front of it, not eating but wishing he were.
Borth said: “As usual, Major, you’re letting your heart run your head. Forget the bell and clean up the alleyway. This is too sentimental, this bell business.”
The Major said to Zito in Italian: “Zito, exactly when was the bell taken away?”
Zito said promptly, without having to think it over: “June the fourteenth. It was the day when Mayor Nasta fined me three thousand lira for leaving my Atlas open at the page of North America. I used to read my Atlas in dull hours outside the door there, and that day I left it open at North America. Like everyone else, Mayor Nasta knew the Americans were coming here. It made him nervous. He thought I was mocking him. He fined me six months’ pay.”
The Major said: “June fourteenth, almost exactly a month.”
Zito said: “It took them two days to take the bell down. They used six sets of block and tackle. Then it took another day to crate it. They started taking it down on the eleventh and finally carted it away on the fourteenth.”
The Major said: “The fourteenth,” but he was thinking. He was thinking so hard that he had forgotten all about going to church.
In the Church of Sant’ Angelo, meanwhile, Father Pensovecchio was growing frantic. Most of the heads in his crowd, his lovely crowd, kept turning toward the door instead of facing the silver crucifix which survived the fire of 1553.
He could see that he was about to lose their attention altogether. They would all get up and go out in the streets looking for the Mister Major in a few minutes. There was nothing to do but begin.
It was most irregular, but Father Pensovecchio knew that much was at stake for his Church, so he did not begin with the beginning of the mass, but instead began to recite the war litany, hoping in this way to kill time until the Major appeared.
His voice began to drone: “Regina pads ora pro nobis...”
In his office Major Joppolo was saying his thoughts out loud - in Italian, because he wanted to test them out on Zito: “We could get another. But we could not just get any bell. It would have to be a bell with meaning. Zito, what would you think if we got you a Liberty Bell?”
Zito said: “What is this Liberty Bell?”
Major Joppolo said: “It is the bell the Americans rang when they declared themselves free from the English.” Zito said: “The idea is good. But would America be willing to part with this bell for Adano?”
Major Joppolo said: “We would have to get a replica, Zito. “
Zito said: “Describe this bell.”
Major Joppolo said: “Well, it hangs in a tower in Philadelphia, I think. It is of bronze,